


First, do no harm

by whirlpool



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Dark Comedy, Demyx just really doesn't want to do his missions, Gen, Humor, One Shot, Zexion as the organization's doctor, sorry about the end I couldn't help myself, written as friendship but you can interpret however you wish!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-30 02:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19032442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whirlpool/pseuds/whirlpool
Summary: “I think I’m allergic to missions,” said Demyx.“Allergic?” said Zexion.“Yes, allergic,” said Demyx. “You’ve got to help me.”





	First, do no harm

**Author's Note:**

> Written as an experiment for third-person omniscient. Hope you enjoy!

“Zexion,” said Demyx urgently, throwing off his coat and flinging it onto a chair as soon as he entered Number VI’s office. Underneath he was wearing a white undershirt and DuckTales boxers. “You’ve got to help me.”

“Oh?” Zexion was sitting at his desk, eating a sandwich. It was a ham and swiss sandwich, with lettuce and tomato. Zexion would say he enjoyed it, if he had a heart. Unfortunately, Zexion did not have a heart, so he ate his ham and swiss sandwich with lettuce and tomato and kept a straight face and did not say that he was greatly enjoying his sandwich.

“You’ve got to write me a doctor’s note,” continued Demyx. In addition to his scientific inquiries, Zexion also performed duties as the Organization’s physician. This job mostly entailed writing doctor’s notes to excuse Demyx from missions. Demyx was a very sickly Nobody. Whenever he was assigned missions, his stomach would hurt and his migraines would flare up. For a Nobody, it really was remarkable how often he got sick.

“What is it this time?” asked Zexion, turning his chair around. “Contused gallbladder? Inflamed liver?”

Zexion couldn’t excuse Demyx from all his missions, of course, because then Xemnas would notice. Zexion and Demyx bonded over their shared goal of not being noticed too much by Xemnas. On this particular day, Demyx had just returned from a brutal reconnaissance mission in Agrabah.

“I think I’m allergic to missions,” said Demyx.

“Allergic?”

“Yes, allergic,” said Demyx. “You’ve got to help me.”

“Describe your symptoms,” said Zexion, reaching for a pad of paper on his desk. He clicked his pen, ready.

“It’s awful.” Demyx shuddered. “My skin got all red and heated. And then this horrible bodily fluid started oozing out of my pores - all over my body! From my neck, from under my arms, behind my back … even in the crooks of my elbows!”

“Sweating,” said Zexion. “You’re describing sweating.”

Demyx’s face twisted as he recalled his harrowing experience of sweating during his reconnaissance mission in Agrabah. “Awful, I tell you. Just awful.”

“I can’t write you a doctor’s note for sweating,” said Zexion, still holding his pen.

“You’ve got to get me out of these missions,” Demyx pleaded, desperate. “Those Heartless - they’re trying to kill me!”

“The Heartless are not trying to kill you,” said Zexion patiently.

“Then why are they attacking me?!” Demyx cried.

“They’re attacking everyone. They’re Heartless. They have no hearts.”

“Nobodies have no hearts. Do you see _us_ going around attacking people?” Demyx gestured wildly.

“On an emotional level, perhaps,” said Zexion, thinking about what they had done to Sora and Kairi. And to Riku and Naminé.

“What about you?” insisted Demyx, stubbornly. “How come _you_ aren’t assigned missions?”

“I’m assigned missions,” Zexion assured him. “My missions are mostly scientific inquiries, though. So I complete them here, in my lab.”

“And Vexen?” Demyx asked, tilting his head towards the tall, weedy scientist working in the next room over.

Vexen was a shrill, whinging, limp-haired Nobody who spent more time complaining about alleged problems with his working conditions rather than fixing those problems. Zexion liked working with him because he made the days unbearably long. As a member of Organization XIII, Zexion knew that death was always imminent, and did everything he could to make his days longer. So far, working with Vexen had extended his life span by about 3000 years.

As it turned out, Vexen was also assigned missions. However, he had worked out a deal with Axel: Axel included Vexen’s name on about half of his mission reports, and in exchange, Vexen kept the redhead supplied with his homebrewed Elixirs. Axel then used the Elixirs to get high. As Zexion explained the details of this arrangement, Demyx felt deeply moved and inspired. Axel and Vexen had reached a level of delinquency and gross mismanagement of Organization resources that Demyx could only hope to one day reach.

As Demyx considered his coworkers’ accomplishments, a stroke of genius suddenly hit him.

“Wait, Zexion!” said Demyx, excited. “Why don’t we do the same thing?”

Zexion had returned to his desk and had been browsing the internet for the past forty minutes while Demyx was thinking. Demyx took a while to think.

With a sign, Zexion once again turned his chair around. “What same thing?”

“We could have an _arrangement_ ,” Demyx whispered conspiratorially.

Zexion raised an eyebrow. It was possible that he raised both eyebrows, but Demyx could only see the one.

“All you need to do is write doctor’s notes for me, excusing me from missions,” explained Demyx.

“And what do I get in return?” asked Zexion.

“In return, I’ll include your name on my mission reports,” said Demyx proudly. It had taken him quite a while to come up with this idea.

“How will you include my name on your mission reports … if you don’t go on any missions?”

Demyx paused, blinking. While he thought about it, Zexion used the extra hour and a half to start packing for his upcoming trip to Castle Oblivion.

“I’ve got it!” crowed Demyx. Zexion zipped up his suitcase.

“You’ve got it?” asked Zexion.

“I’ve got it,” said Demyx triumphantly. “Whenever I don’t go on missions, I always give my doctor’s note to Saix instead of a mission report. So I’ll just add your name to my doctor’s note!”

“The doctor’s note,” said Zexion, “that I have just signed. As your doctor.”

Demyx frowned. “Oh.”

Zexion patted Demyx’s shoulder encouragingly. “My advice? Do your missions. Fill Kingdom Hearts. The sooner we fulfill all our missions, the sooner we can all pack up and go back home.”

Demyx pouted.

The next day, Zexion left for his trip to Castle Oblivion and never returned, so Demyx figured that maybe the young scientist had been further along in his missions than anyone else.


End file.
